A post in which we go home*

Well all good things must come to an end.  We got up this morning and I had coffee on the porch of the little sleeper cabin.  I was glad that I brought coffee with me.  I've been drinking iced coffee in this weather anyway, and there's something decadent about having a luxury like homemade hazelnut coffee with half-n-half in the middle of the woods. 

We took a shower, said our good-byes, and packed up our stuff.  We stopped at The Berryman House for breakfast, where we enjoyed the service of another very sweet waitress.  Jason said that the table next to us glared at us, but I didn't see it.  Bowman, GA is an odd little place.  It's a tiny little town in rural Georgia that is invaded by between three hundred and a thousand homosexuals every weekend.  The businessmen welcome us and our wallets, but some of the locals aren't quite as thrilled with the weekly influx.  There's a doctoral thesis in there somewhere. 

Over breakfast, we got  more in-depth into some of the back-story with my family, in the context of a discussion of the difficulties our friend Rodney is having with his family.  In particular we got into the Cindy situation, which Jason seemed to latch onto.  The dissection of my motivations there with the birthday card occupied most of the trip home.  It was another sunny beautiful day.  The drive seemed to fly by. 

We got in and got unloaded.  I began to unpack, and Jason headed on to see his dad for a while.

After futzing around the house, I got in touch with RBL and went over there for supper.  I really missed them this weekend.  They're being good on the Weight Watchers plan, so we had dinner at the house, and just visited. 

Because of the lightness of the fare, I didn't have any guilt about soliciting a piece of Logan's birthday cake.  I had spied it out in the extra fridge.  Under the Tupperware cover, it looked like a grandmother-made confection with nuts or something in the icing.  I had forgotten Logan's proclivity, however.  By habit (one can only assume) he requires a Pillsbury 'Funfetti' cake every year for his birthday.  Which Billy had of course made.  I don't know what they're going to do when that mix isn't offered any more, but not my problem.  Chagrined, I dug into my dessert. 

I talked to them about the Jason situation.  This weekend certainly wasn't a test, but had it been he would have passed with flying colors. We got along remarkably well considering the close quarters and the myriad of issues that could have arisen.  There was food for thought, certainly, but overall I was really pleased and had a really good time. 

I headed home for bed contented, and with the lovely luxury of a 'decompressing day' ahead tomorrow.